One of Us
by Kiri-koli
Summary: When Bayville High sponsers a debate on mutant registration, Kurt is forced to choose between protecting himself and joining his friend out in the open--and dangerous--world. Rated for some language.
1. Crystalline Disturbance

Disclaimer: The general idea and the title I owe to InterNutter, who graciously allowed me to borrow them when I asked a million years ago if I could give my own interpretation. The characters, save for Crystal and a few lackies that no one cares about, belong to the official peoples who made them up and financed the cartoon, etc. Don't sue me; I'm a poor college student.

Honestly, people, I've had this for a long time and I'm trying to force myself to finish it. So some reviews would be appreciated. I've got about seven chapters so far and that's more than halfway through. I'm only going to put up two for now...cuz I'm lazy...but if people are interested, I'll put up more. Thanks and enjoy. :D

One of Us

"Crystal!!"  
  
Skidding to a halt, the hurried senior gritted her teeth. She hated her name and she hated Principal Kelly and when he said her name...  
  
"Crystal?!"  
  
Putting on her best I'm-a-good-student-you-can-let-me-get-away-with- anything smile, Crystal spun and called out reluctantly, "Yes, Principal Kelly?" She forced herself not to cringe. He looked like shit. Eyes bloodshot, his left arm hanging rather uselessly, his mouth twisted in a constant state of shock...she almost felt sorry for him. "Almost."  
  
"What was that?"  
  
"Er...nothing. What can I do you for?" She cringed for real now. That hadn't quite come out like she had wanted.  
  
"You've heard about the recent um...disturbances...regarding to mutants? Of course you have. I've received word from the Super that the state is attempting to create awareness as to the...situation...regarding mutant registration and all that. So, in the interest 'd like you to organize a student debate as to mutant rights."  
  
Crystal felt her lips part in astonishment. "You do realize that that has the potential to turn into an anti-mutant free-for-all?"  
  
Despite his shell-shocked demeanor, Principal Kelly actually smiled. "That is now your prob...er, responsibility." Giving her a thumbs-up, Kelly turned tail and fled, leaving one _very_ irate senior in his wake.

* * *

"...be very happy to let everyone know just how I feel about muties. I'd like to get my hands on one right now and show him his place, preferably with a sledge hammer to his forehead and then I'll..."  
  
"Grind his bones to make your bread?" Crystal suggested dryly, peering at Duncan Matthews from just over her clipboard.  
  
"Yeh, I just might do that," he replied with a self-righteous sneer. She rolled her eyes and scribbled on her paper. He, of course, noticed. He wasn't _that_ stupid. "You some kinda mutie lover?"  
  
Or maybe he was. "Duncan, you would do well to remember that this is a civilized debate about mutant registration and rights, not the potentials of genocide. If you have something, for lack of a better term, _intelligent_ to say, I'll add your name to the list. This is _not_ a free-for-all. Understand?"  
  
The jock glared at her—rather stupidly she thought—trying to win the ensuing stare fight. She stared back coldly, her brown eyes never flickering. Inevitably, he lost and consented to the terms with an unintelligible grunt. Crystal nodded and made a small mark on her paper. He would probably be the first person she would have to throw out of the room. "Next!" she yelled, slightly annoyed.  
  
A junior walked into her "office"—staying as far from the jock as humanly possible, Crystal noted—and hovered just in front of her, looking about as nervous as Duncan Matthews was stupid. _And that's saying something_. She studied him for a moment, watching his hands play with something that was...what? His belt? She didn't see anything but he was definitely playing with something around his waist...ah well, "Kurt Wagner?" she asked, marking on her paper.  
  
"Y-y-you pronounced it right." He sounded surprised and she smiled a bit, feeling better.  
  
"Mmm, my Oma would never forgive me if I didn't. Now, I assume you've heard about the debate coming up?" He nodded and went back to playing with his belt—or whatever—looking pale. "I called you down here cuz I'd like to get a foreign point of view on the situation. Now I know that mutants are still unknown in many parts of the world, but I figured you had been here long enough to know about mutants and at least guess at what the German perspective might be. Yeah?"  
  
"Ja," Kurt said automatically, followed by the classic could-have-kicked- himself expression.  
  
"Good. You can choose either side you feel you could best represent. You'll get credit, of course, in English and your teacher assured me you would participate. As I've been reminding _way_ too many people lately, this is not a debate about the merits of genocide," he paled even farther, "or about 'muties'. I'm limiting this to the topic of mutant registration and general rights and I hope to keep racism out of the picture. So feel free to choose either side."  
  
"Jawohl," he muttered, moving gratefully towards the door.  
  
"Oh, one other thing..." He spun with a barely audible sigh and Crystal found herself actually feeling sorry for him. "You're friends with Scott Summers, right?"  
  
Kurt's eyes shot up to hers. "Nein! I mean, ja! I mean, yes, yes I am." Crystal scribbled on her clipboard and didn't bother to look up.  
  
"I'd like you to give him a message. I tried talking to him about it earlier, but...anyways, in the interest of open debate; I am doing my best to stop this damn thing from turning into an anti-mutant funfest. Honestly, I don't want that and I will be throwing out people who violate my strict interpretation of the topic." _Like Duncan Matthews_. "Even so, this is hard to do with one side...well, let's just say many share Scott's view that this is not worth the trouble. I disagree. I think this is an opportunity to talk to the community and, if done right, they will listen. Awareness destroys ignorance and all that. But it's kinda hard with only two people currently willing to oppose mutant registration." She peered at Kurt from over her clipboard and he nodded and started for the door, only to stop halfway through.  
  
"Scott might want to know who those two people are."  
  
"Right," Crystal muttered, shuffling through some papers. "Erm...Nick something and...um...right, Amanda Sefton."  
  
_Thud_.  
  
Kurt had fainted in her doorway.  
  
Crystal raised an eyebrow. "Dude...not cool." 


	2. Scarred Understanding

"Honestly, Kurt, I don't see what the big decision here is. It's not like arguing for mutants makes you a mutant."  
  
"Scott is, like, so totally right. You're working yourself up, like, way too much over this. Just, like, get up and, like, say a few words and get off stage. It's going to be, like, a dumb jock show anyway."  
  
"Doesn't have to be..." Kurt muttered. He was currently sitting on the wall in a not-quite-impossible position worrying at his tail. Said tail hadn't stopped moving in nearly an hour, being much more vocal than its owner. Kurt hadn't been saying much of anything. He was deep in thought, letting Kitty and Scott "reassure" him. Crystal's words about community and doing it right kept spinning through his head.  
  
And he was hungry.  
  
"Kurt may be getting too worked up, but you two are taking this decision much too lightly." The occupants of the room—Scott, Kitty, Kurt and Professor X—looked stunned at Rogue. She hadn't been talking much either and, by his expression, Kurt had forgotten his sister was present.  
  
Scott sighed and reached under his red shades to rub at the bridge of his nose. "What do you mean Rogue?" He didn't sound like he really wanted to know.  
  
The Goth glared at him for half a second before looking at Kurt. "Ah just mean, what with the 'Bayville Demon' rumors floating around, if Kurt doesn't want to be found, he should do everything he can not to be found. You know Duncan and them are all suspicious anyway. And he might very well be arrested for stuff he didn't do! If Kurt goes up there and argues for mutant rights, they're just goin' to hound him worse. 'sides, he doesn't have to do a good job arguing against mutant rights."  
  
Ja, I wish, Kurt thought silently. Mein Englisch teacher might have something to say about that... He sighed. "Professor?"  
  
"Do what you think is right, Kurt." The room turned as one in amazement to stare at Xavier now and Kurt sighed.  
  
"Look, Kurt," Kitty started.  
  
"Please, Katzchen? No more?" He shook his head. He knew how they felt about his hiding. Each and every one of them. But they didn't understand.... "I'm...I'm going to go think about this a bit." Before anyone could protest, Kurt 'ported out of sight, leaving only sulfur.  
  
Scott shook his head. "I don't get it...I just don't..." He left the room and Kitty started after him, pausing just long enough to stare liquid hot death at Rogue. The southern teen sighed and looked at Xavier.  
  
"Ah don't like him hiding either. Ah mean we're all out there and it's not so bad...but Ah know. Ah've seen some of his nightmares, since Ah touched him." She tapped her temple almost unconsciously. "He tries to hide them, but Ah see sometimes..." Shaking her head, Rogue left the room.  
  
Xavier turned his wheelchair slightly and just stared into the fire.  
  
A slight breeze flittered over the green blades of relatively short grass that made up the clearing that was his church. The trees swayed, forming their protective barrier, shielding him from prying eyes and wandering souls. The blue expanse above, the Kingdom wherein lay his faith, his hope, stretched lazily through the afternoon, absently mindful of his dilemma.  
  
It was beautiful. Serene. Comforting. And Kurt didn't see a bit of it.  
  
He shifted, uncomfortable on his usual perch. Cold radiated off the rock, clad by shade and seeping into the soles of his feet. Contradiction. The memory of flame, singing fur. Unbearable heat. The screams...the calls for blood...  
  
Kurt shivered. Here, in this holy place, he could deal with his memories and not succumb to fear. But it was difficult, unpleasant. He pulled himself back to his current predicament, keeping the memories on the tip of his being.  
  
"It's too complicated," Kurt murmured to Him. "I need to sort it out." He took a steadying breath and started from the beginning. "I'm scared," he confessed. "I know it's different here. I know this is America and I think they don't burn people but...there are other things. A lot of other things they can do. It could be Winzledorf all over again. It could..." He bit back tears. He had to stay focused.  
  
"Okay...there are my friends. I should stick up for them. I mean, they're all hurt that I haven't 'revealed' myself. I know they are! And I don't want them to hate me..." He glanced skyward. "I need them...okay, one reason to risk it.  
  
"Risk what, exactly? Risk discovery. Okay, that's simple enough. If I argue for mutant rights, I risk investigation and discovery. And the repercussions from the 'Bayville Demon' thing. Verdammt. That's bad. If I'm blamed for everything—which I will be—then people are going to immediately think I'm a demon and run screaming. It's inevitable. No way to talk out of that one...  
  
"And what of the dream? If I'm 'revealed', won't that make it harder for everyone else? Won't people think worse of the Institute for protecting a monster? It will make everything harder on Herr Professor and all my friends...and I...I'll be permanently a freak...as if I wasn't to begin with..."  
  
Kurt curled up into a ball, rocking back and forth with the thought of losing his only semblance of normalcy. He could never go back from a thing like that...  
  
"Sounds like you've made up yer mind, elf."  
  
Kurt looked up, not entirely surprised. Logan stood there as if he had always been, looking as though talking to yourself—or God—was the most natural thing in the world. "Have I?"  
  
"I dunno. Seems pretty cut-and-dry to me."  
  
Kurt blinked. "It does?"  
  
Logan tipped an unlit cigar at him. "Survival."  
  
Kurt bristled. "But at what cost? Continued ignorance?"  
  
Logan didn't say anything. He just stood there, a half-smile ghosting across his harsh features.  
  
Kurt made a strangled sound and buried his face in his fuzzy hands. "You're not helping." It was all he could do to keep the words from being a growl. "If I argue against, I'll hate myself. They'll hate me and I'll deserve it! And yet..."  
  
The half-smile had vanished. "If that's how you see it...go with the lesser of two evils."  
  
"But—" Kurt looked up. Logan was gone. "Lesser of two evils..." He sighed. "Forgive me Father...and, please, let them forgive me as well. I try...I..." He broke off, wondering how he could truly ask for forgiveness if he couldn't see a way to grant it himself.  
  
"You're doing what?"  
  
"You heard me, Liebe."  
  
"I heard it. Doesn't mean I believe it."  
  
Kurt sighed for about the millionth time that day. Amanda had taken the news just as he had suspected she would, which was...unfortunate. "Look, I've been thinking about this all day. I've been arguing about it all day." Mostly with myself. "And I've made up my mind."  
  
"Sometimes you have to stand up for what you believe in and damn the consequences!"  
  
"Like you stood up to your parents?"  
  
Dead silence.  
  
Then—"I'm here, aren't I?"  
  
Kurt looked at Amanda, gazing into her eyes. She was so beautiful. His love. He hated to hurt her; he hated the pain in her expression. But she didn't understand...surely if...  
  
"Liebe...Amanda," he said softly, but firmly. "Ja, you are here. You are and I love you for it. But you must see...you're here in secret. You're here because your parents either don't know or don't want to suspect...but nothing has changed! I'm still a mutant freak" She winced. "to them. Tell me, truthfully. Have you tried to just talk to them? Have you done more than simply get angry?"  
  
She had found something immensely interesting to study on the ground. Finally, she whispered, "No." A moment and then—"But I will. I haven't yet, but I will."  
  
He shook his head and gave a small smile. "Warum? Why haven't you?" She looked up, confused. "You haven't, Liebe, because it won't help. Nein, don't argue! It won't. At least, not now. There are some things that are best left alone. That—and this—is one of them. It's not worth it."  
  
She was crying now. A tear, maybe two, rolled down her dark cheeks, past the angry curve of her mouth. Kurt couldn't breathe. He couldn't stand it when girls cried. He reached for her, to squeeze her hand, touch her soft skin...  
  
That was when she left. 


	3. Confusion Never Stops, Closing Walls and...

Yay! I got review thingies! Thanks. :D Here's chapter three...yes, the title is from Clocks by Coldplay. I just love that line for some reason.

I think I forgot to mention this before, but this takes place after the episode where most of the Institute kids, minus Kurt, were revealed. It also has a lot of elements of InterNutter's universe in here because that's the Kurt I know and love. And I haven't seen the show in a while. So, if you're confused, go read InterNutter's stuff. And even if you aren't confused. Cuz her stuff is great.

Chapter Three: Confusion Never Stops, Closing Walls and Ticking Clocks

It had been two days. Two excruciatingly quiet days since Kurt had come out of his room to do more than eat. Monday, Tuesday…they'd passed with a sort of surreal quality as if no one could quite wake up.

Frankly, Kitty couldn't stand it anymore. She stood outside his door, one hand raised to knock. Two days…Amanda hadn't called either. That was a bad sign. The debates had been scheduled for tomorrow, but then postponed because Pietro and Todd had decided to get creative with some ketchup, mystery meat, and silly-string in the school auditorium. Kitty had nearly strangled Todd the next time she had seen him. This meant the three-day debate would be spread over the weekend and that god-awful silence would continue that much longer. 

"Like, maybe I can make him feel better," she muttered to herself. "Just don't, like, try and change his mind for him…" She knocked at the door…and missed.

She screamed, he bamfed, and the door swung wildly on creaking hinges.

She coughed, waving at the sulfuric smoke. "That, like, could have gone better. Kurt!" she yelled. "Get back here!" Not knowing where he'd gone, she tapped her foot impatiently, hoping he'd have the good sense to come back.

"Katzchen…you scar—"

She shrieked again and backed against a wall, looking up. He was sitting on the wall, his head cocked at her. "Sorry," he whispered.

Kitty could feel her heart racing. "It's okay…" she said breathlessly. "I hope I didn't, like, startled you as much as you, like, startled me." There was an uncomfortable pause in which they just stared at each other, not sure what to say. Suddenly, she didn't want to be craning her head to look at him. "Come down here." He obediently dropped to the floor. He was holding a backpack. "Going somewhere?"

His glowing eyes found the floor and studied it with an unhealthy fixation. "My…group…is meeting today…"

"Oh." She started playing with her hair. "You know, you don't, like, have to be sorry?" she offered.

Kurt looked up. "It's not like I haven't scared you before."

She blushed. _Ouch_. "That's, like, not what I meant."

"I know." Another pause. "I have to get going."

"Yeah…okay…like, see you later…"

* * *

Kurt dragged his feet through the muddy streets. His head was spinning with…everything. Before they'd been postponed, his group had decided that the debates should be an individual thing. Translation: Getting together took effort, and half the group couldn't even find that word in the dictionary. But, on reflection, it had been gradually agreed that a meeting was, er…necessary. Translation? Bigot party time.

Yippee. Maybe if he sank far enough into ignorance, all this would just fade away…

At least Kitty hadn't come to lecture him again. They'd been doing _it_ since last week. Oh, no one had said anything, but then they hadn't needed to. They did it with their eyes and Amanda did it with her silence. Hell, even Logan had looked disgusted.

_It's your imagination, Elf_, Kurt thought. _This will all be over soon enough…_

"Oh, who am I kidding?" he groaned. "It isn't supposed to be like this. I'm supposed to be the hero!" The empty street echoed his words back to him. The wind was picking up…a storm was coming. Was Ms. Monroe upset then too? He sighed. "This hero needs redemption…"

_At least Kitty…oh, shut up._

The "meeting" was being held at Duncan's and, will wonders never cease, there were "refreshments". Kurt managed to whittle the evening away, avoiding all the drinks despite the fact that "German spirit, man! You best be drinking!"

Oh yeah, everything was going just peachy. Until, of course, it wasn't. Stephanie Feotting, the only other person on the team with an IQ _not_ comparable to most forms of lichen, decided that they should actually do some work. Kurt drifted over to an unoccupied chair and sat down beside a lovely piece of diligent clockwork.

Tick, tock.

"So, to begin our meeting, I'm going to assume that you all know your assigned positions and have already prepared your speeches." Glares were exchanged. "Let's go over it, shall we? Just to make sure we don't have any repeats."

One by one, they said their topics, calm, coolly…

"So, like, I'm going to talk about how, like, mutants could rob banks and junk." Snapping gum.

Tick…

"I'm doin' the whole bio thing, how mutants are unnatural and clossser to animalsss."

…tock.

"I'm doing magic and how it's close to mutants and how they're against God!"

Tick…why was it suddenly so hard to breathe?

"Kurt?"

...tock.

"Kurt...?"

Tick...

"KURT!"

...tock... "Huh?" ...tick...

"Dude...what's your topic?" Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick.

"Oh, um...past instances of violence and that mutants shouldn't have anything to hide."

"They'll have to hide from my fist." Duncan had a very ugly sneer, Kurt thought absently. Tick. Hey. What happened to tock?

"Sandy?"

"I'm doing blah, blah, blah."

Blink. That can't be right. Tock...

The clock's glass face shattered and Kurt jumped in surprise. Did glass explode spontaneously?

"Dude, you broke my parent's clock!!"

Author's Note: Hey, that's almost a cliffhanger. Mwhahaha. Stand by for more chapters to come. And please review! I need to know what I'm doing wrong!!


	4. Love and Hate

"Oops?" Kurt offered weakly. His abrupt snap back to reality had him shaking beneath his hologram. Duncan looked like he was about ready to punch someone whose name could say, start with "K" and end with "urt", but that wasn't the problem. He really, really, hadn't meant to hit the clock.

Duncan was turning a lovely shade of chartreuse by now, but bewilderment was staying his hand, er, fist. Kurt's mouth opened and closed several times without issuing any sort of coherent sound and he was sure he was going to get it—and exposed—any second now...but luck, it seems, is not without a sense of humor.

Josh was lazy in every sense of the word. Everything from his slouch to his slur conveyed the fact that he just didn't _care_ about anything that, well, he didn't care about. It was nearly everything. He didn't _care_ that the clock might be priceless; he didn't _care_ that there might be a reason that Kurt looked like he'd just swallowed an extremely bitter bug. All he saw was the simplest explanation possible.

"Duncan, chill. He was jussst reachin' for hisss drink."

Ah, yes, the untouched alcoholic beverage was sitting rather unobtrusively on an ornate bookend next to the ill-fated clock. The gathered stared at it in a moment of silence, judging the angle, and Kurt couldn't help feeling that his heart was being weighed against the feather of truth. Duncan's fists were still clenched but he was stilled, grudgingly waiting for the verdict and, in a moment of giddiness, Kurt decided he was not unlike the Devourer of Souls. At least, the position of his jaw made the Hippopotamus part work.

"Shi-it. You must have one hell of a backhand." And the jocks were patting him on the back with congratulations on a nice swing and Stephanie was shaking her head like Kurt had just joined the Lost Cause Club. Kurt—thanking God he was wearing a thick jacket—ducked under their hands and backed toward the door.

"Like, where ya goin'? We ain't done yet." Shana. He'd forgotten about her, sitting by the door. She snapped her gum and smiled, well, leered, obviously as pleased as the jocks and made to grab his wrist.

Kurt leaped backwards, meeting the doorframe with his head and stammered, "Have to go do something I forgot! I'll pay for the clock!" And then he was out the door, his last view having been of Duncan, still purple and sputtering.

* * *

"Ow," Kurt protested, feeling the lump on the back of his head as he walked through the dark. It was throbbing and he was still shaking from the close calls and the fact that he'd been saved—_saved!_—by a person who would happily crucify him if he knew the truth _and_ sell tickets. If Josh hadn't said what he did, when he did...but then if he hadn't said that mutants were animals, Kurt might have not smashed the clock in the first place.

His hand dropped from his head and Kurt stared at it. His perpetual Vulcan salute, hidden beneath the hologram, glared back and Kurt concentrated, as if trying hard enough to get those first two fingers to split into something normal. Normal. Hate was normal. It was the opposite of love. Without one, the other was nothing, without hate, love wouldn't be so beautiful, so pure, so needed. But hate could be deserved, like love, and shouldn't be blindly followed or accepted.

"They hate me," he murmured into the air. He couldn't do this and yet he couldn't _not_ do it. The night was witness to the fact that they _hated_ him, saying it aloud made it so. And what was so was so. It couldn't change. "And I shouldn't try," he said louder, testing the words on his tongue. They tasted bitter.

"Kurt?"

His head jerked and he winced, and his hand, still blathering on about living long and prospering, came up in defense.

"Omigod, Kurt, what happened?"

"Amanda?" He stared at her blankly, like he would a stranger...or rather, like anyone one else would look at a stranger. Though he tried to see the good in people, always, strangers were dangerous by necessity until they weren't. She took his hand—when had she walked over?—and pulled him up toward what he belatedly realized was her home. Some part of him registered that that was a Bad Thing and pulled back but she was insistent and his traitorous hand clung to her, making the whole _viva la resistance_ thing a moot point.

"Kurt, what happened?" For the second time that day, Kurt snapped back to reality with such rapidity that it was painful.

"Hit my head," he muttered shortly, not looking at her.

"Well, you're not bleeding," she said, trying not to sound hurt. She rocked back on her heels and then said quietly, "You're going to go through with it, aren't you?"

He frowned. Was it really that easy. "Ja." He could feel her disappointment, but didn't have the strength to argue. She sighed and laid her head on his shoulder.

"_Amanda_??" The voice was shrill and female and Kurt opened his eyes, startled. Wow, even her shoes managed to look angry. The rest of Mrs. Sefton looked like she's sell her soul for a broom to whack him over the head with. Her husband appeared at her side and went volcano. "I _thought_ it was _clear_ that you aren't welcome here."

Kurt felt an unfamiliar surge of anger and stood, incidentally shoving Amanda back in the progress. "Ja, clear," he said icily. "I was just leaving."

_bamf_

Kurt appeared back at the Institute and, ignoring those residents still awake, dizzily stalked his way toward his bedroom.

"Kurt?" Scott called, holding up the phone as he shoved past. "It's for you. It's Amanda." Kurt ignored the other boy and stomped up the stairs and a second later Scott heard a door slam. He frowned. "Okay, then." He put the phone back to his ear. "Sorry, he's being a bit...unresponsive. You'll have to try again tomorrow." He hung up. Tomorrow the debates started. Scott looked again at the stairs and his expression turned from worry to anger and back again.


	5. On Debates and NotSoBright Ideas

Note: Hey guys, thanks for reviewing. Yeah, I know this might seem a little out of character for Kurt, but if you look deeper at the situation, first, his history would teach him the value of not being seen (in this specific version, he was once almost burned at the stake) and second, at the very least, he could be targeted and blamed for acts of the brotherhood, any other random mutants and anything bad that's ever happened when someone saw him without his hologram (even if they make it up). If he's _lucky_, he would be arrested. So I think it's in character for him to at least consider the road that would hurt his friends but could very well save his life...and perhaps save them some trouble because they are associated with him.

Anyway, here's chapter five. I've been having some real life problems lately that hopefully will be resolved soon and I'll finish chapter seven and go on. Though if my problem takes a turn for the worse...well, it's good you're going on vacation, Carol J, and I'm sorry to everyone else. It might take me a while to want to write again.

Chapter Five: On Debates and Not-So-Bright Ideas

Stephanie stepped to the podium, looking supremely confident in her opening argument. The auditorium hummed with bored teenagers and Crystal's pen clicked against her clipboard. She had the unhappy task of also grading the participants as well as supervising and looked for all the world like she wished her Bazooka wasn't just gum.

"Ahem." Stephanie cleared her throat like a delicate piece of glass refuse and the buzz reluctantly lowered to a dull roar. Principal Kelly glowered, the Institute kids looked like they wanted to melt through the floor—Kitty seriously thought about it—and Kurt, behind stage, bit his tongue, wondering if this could possibly be less painful than his sharp incisors. "Ahem. Mutants. A mutation is defined medically as a change in a genetic trait and has entered our daily vocabulary as slang for something that is a variant of the norm. Mutation is often another word for evolution, commonly accepted as the method of changing life, the very reason we exist here as we do today. Some, then, might agree that mutants _are_ normal, that they are simply an extension of our natural evolution. But there are glaring holes in this argument that will be highlighted in this debate and show you that mutants are the result of something far from normal and thus require special consideration.

"I refer, of course, to mutant registration. Evolution, from here on out in this debate, will be separate from mutation because it is a natural event that take place over the course of millions of years and is reinforced by the idea of natural selection. Mutation, on the other hand, is a seemingly spontaneous and, indeed, instantaneous event which breeds not adaptation, but instability. Blame it on pollution, global warming, or bad diets...in the end, it is an anomaly that is spreading, like a virus experimenting with new and untested forms of sucking a host cell dry." She smiled here and the crowd hooted its approval. Kurt felt sick. "Unlike a virus, however, it has been proven that some mutants are not harmful, even that they can be productive members of society." Someone in the crowd booed. "But things like this cannot be left unchecked. Mutant registration will allow the situation to be monitored and any potential problems will be dealt with. Proper rights, given freely to those properly evolved, will be awarded and shared with those who deserve it and mutants will live among us like they do now, except that they will no longer need to hide in shadows. They will be seen for what they are, live responsibly under a watchful and necessary guiding eye, and nature will resume its rightful course." She ended with a flourish and parts of the audience burst into applause. Kitty winced at the sound but noted that it was not as many people as she had expected; the ones that were cheering where just louder than most of the school. She glanced at her friends to see if they noticed, but Rogue was glaring, Scott was seeing red for once not caused by his shades, and Jean looked like she had a massive headache. Disappointed, Kitty slouched in her seat and worried about Kurt.   
  
Said fuzzy mutant was also listening to the crowd and wondered at the same revelation. Maybe it wasn't too hopeless; maybe the world, or at least Bayville, wasn't too far gone with hate. Doubt flourished. He had to do _something_. His gaze panned the crowd and landed on Crystal. The senior was muttering to herself and shaking her head, and then she looked up and caught his eye. She blinked, slowly, and then looked at him with curiosity, like she wanted to delve into his mind and understand...something. Anything.

Kurt smiled. He had an idea.

Josh and Sandy went next, but Kurt didn't hear a word they said. He was too busy refining his plan and trying not to talk himself out of it. It was risky sure, would probably cause a riot but Bayville would surely benefit from meeting _him_ after they met...him. It was unfortunately inevitable that they would tie him to _him_, but better they know _he_ was not dangerous...and the best way to do that was to...apparently start a riot. _Strange logic, mein freund,_ he thought to himself.

His thoughts were interrupted by the opening remarks of the opposite side: Amanda's speech.

"As early as 1939," Amanda began, her voice ringing loud and clear through the auditorium. Her audience shuffled nervously as she paused, her eyes flashing at each and every one of them as she ascertained that she had their full attention. "As early as 1939" she growled again, "the Jewish people were forced to label their clothing with the Star of David in parts of Europe." Kitty shifted in her seat, as did the rest of Bayville High's Jewish population. Crystal raised an impressed eyebrow and Kurt momentarily forgot his anger toward Amanda. "Whether it was the intent of the law or not, these Stars allowed the Jews to be easily identified and targeted by those who thought they were less than human, who thought they should be feared and treated with contempt. And we all, of course, know eventually where this contempt led." She paused. "The mutant registration act is in defiance of every person's right to be human and, as such, treated as a human being." A low uproar swept through the auditorium. Amanda raised her voice. "The mutant registration act, with or without the good intentions that pave the road to Hell, _will_ result in the labeling, the fear, and the contempt with which the Jews were faced in the world's darkest hour. It _WILL_ result in the incarceration of innocents, traumatized children, and the segregation of our world. The truth is that we do _not_ understand evolution and you cannot say it cannot happen spontaneously or instantaneously. You can, however, say this: _innocent until proven guilty_," she roared. The crowd answered her roar, some cheering, some trying to scream her off-stage. "You can't define us by what we are before you know who we are! You can't tell us that we will harm you until we do anymore than you can accuse an innocent holding a loaded gun! We are all human; we are all..." The rest of her speech was drowned out by the crowd as it surged forward onto the stage. Kelly ran forward as well, waving his arms ineffectually and screaming his unheard screams. Crystal leaned back against the wall and just smiled. Yes, it had turned into a riot, but no one stupid could be heard over the din...only Amanda's last words would ring in the minds of those present. Besides, it wasn't her prob...er, responsibility. And Kurt...

Kurt felt cold. He distantly remembered how it felt to glow with pride, how right Amanda's words had felt, how much he loved her, but now everything was ice. She had said "we", he thought as he pulled her back from the crowd she was still trying to taunt. She had said "we" and "us" and it was all that would register in the fog as he pulled her out of the school.

"Alright, Kurt, you can stop now. I think we're far enough away," Amanda called, her voice flush with excitement. Kurt couldn't hear over the pounding of blood in his ears, but stopped when she tugged on his arm and turned to stare. He stared, breathing heavily; just long enough for some of her adrenaline to start bleeding away. "Kurt...?"

He didn't yell. He was past that, so angry and scared that all his voice could do is whisper as it shoved its way through his constricted throat. He started to lecture, to shame her for doing this to herself and him, to tell her it wasn't worth it, that he wasn't worth it and no one ever would be, not to risk her life for some small tolerance that would inevitably fade away. It took him many seconds to register her confusion and several more to realize that his vocabulary had reverted entirely back to German. But he couldn't stop and the English couldn't come past the haze of red and then she was shaking his shoulders and shouting and...

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Felt her hand stroke his cheek. Heard her ask slowly if he could start again. But it was all gone and he was just cold.

"You said 'we'," he stated. Her jaw dropped. He walked away.


	6. First Apparition

It would have to be tonight. No, not because time was running out or because it was his last chance. Or even his best chance. It would have to be tonight because, quite simply, Kurt was going nuts.  
  
He was perched on a cabinet in the kitchen, studiously ignoring both his breakfast and the two sets of eyes watching him like a hawk. He was certain neither Kitty nor Jean had blinked in at least two minutes and it...was...driving...him...batty.  
  
Scott luckily chose that moment to enter the room. "Okay, guys, time for..."  
  
_bamf_  
  
"...school?" He blinked behind his visor and followed the girls' gaze to the wall, perplexed. "What're you looking at?"  
  
Kurt arrived behind the school with a cloud of sulfur and made his way to his locker, which he promptly began pacing in front of. Today was the day. He would give his speech and make preparations for _his_ speech. And hopefully not see Amanda. She hadn't called after he had walked away and he hadn't waited for her to. He knew he was being incredibly unfair—and felt incredibly bad for it—but he just wasn't...ready. Ready to make her understand. Ready to understand himself.  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
Kurt jumped, slamming his back into his locker. If he had a nickel every time... Crystal looked at him at him like something rabid but harmless and shook her head. "O—kay, sorry I asked. Just, um...I'm going to be grading you later. Try to keep it simple, you know, look at the audience, clear voice...all that good speech nonsense. And try not to start anything, okay? I don't think Kelly's heart can take it." Was it his imagination or did she snicker at that? "Anyway, good luck later."  
  
"Um...wait!" he called when she turned to go. She looked back at him expectantly. "Um..." Her lips pursed and she looked at him like...it was unfortunate. He tried desperately to read further into her expression, to know what she seemed to, but she took a step forward, breaking the spell.  
  
"Look, Kurt, relax. You're a decent person, which is pretty rare around here. I know this is hard. Just get in there, get it over with, get your grade and get out." She looked like she wanted to say more, but she just shook her head again and walked away, heels clicking down the empty hallways.  
  
Empty hallways...! Kurt took off for class at a dead run.

* * *

"According to Juan Martinez, 'in the interest of proportional response, mutant powers must be measured and catalogued in order to train those who would safeguard the population from their misuse'..." Kurt's voice droned through the room. Only those from Xavier's Institute seemed to be awake and determined to glare him to death. Oh, and Amanda was refusing to look at him at all. But other than that, it seemed that someone had declared nap-time.  
  
"And so, like the different licensing of guns according to how powerful they are, mutant registration will allow the government to keep tabs on potential threats to public safety." The flat buzzing having stopped, the audience began to wake and a few scattered applauses were issued. Kurt was relieved to see his English teacher looked happy, even if Crystal was yawning as she scribbled down his grade.  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Wagner," Principal Kelly said, shooing him off stage. "Thank you very, very much. That thankfully concludes our proceedings for today. We will start our closing statements off with Duncan Matt—" He stopped speaking as the auditorium began to clear. "Yes, yes, class dismissed." As if anyone was still listening.  
  
Kitty waited around, looking for Kurt. Though she was still mad like everyone else, his boring speech hadn't done much for the enemy and so she was willing to cut him a little slack. But as the school cleared, the hologram-covered mutant was nowhere to be seen. "Like, how rude."

* * *

Kurt clung to the sides of a warm, brick building, watching Crystal as the senior walked quickly down the street. She seemed lost in thought, absently keeping herself walking in a straight line and not paying attention to much else. Seeing his opportunity in the form of a dark alley, Kurt 'ported with a soft _bamf_ just before she reached it.  
  
_This is probably the worst possible way to go about this_, he thought to himself. _Oops, too_ _late_. Reaching out with his tail, he snagged her wrist and pulled her in the shadows. She gave a small yelp, but was otherwise still as he placed a furry hand around her mouth—just in case.  
  
"Please don't scream," he said, too nervous to be pleased with his mangled accent. "I'm not going to hurt you...I'm a mutant. I just want to talk to you about the debates." She nodded—barely—and he let go.  
  
She spun, predictably, but he had sunk back into the shadows, and she could only see his two glowing eyes. Kurt watched her carefully. He could catch her, if she ran, but he wouldn't. She peered at him for a moment, her expression oddly thoughtful. "Well then, let's see you."  
  
Kurt's mouth opened and closed. He watched in astonishment as she stepped farther into the alley and checked the streets as he had been doing constantly since turning off his watch. Then she crossed her arm and struck a pose, as if he was wasting her time.  
  
_Here goes_...Kurt stepped out of the shadows. A small gasp caught in her throat and her eyes widened in surprise. Kurt felt his cheeks grow hot, but whether he was angry or blushing, he couldn't tell. She stared for just a minute before her expression shut down completely.  
  
"You're the Bayville Demon," she stated. He started to object, but she cut him off. "What do you want?" Her voice caught as if she was trying too hard to make her demand sound harsh.  
  
"I _am_ the Bayville Demon," he said softly. "Just not in the way everyone thinks." She didn't react and he felt himself slipping. "I just want to be heard."  
  
She reacted slightly to his whispered plea. "I'll arrange for it. Be there and wait for me to announce you." She turned on her heel but stopped again when she reached the end of the alley. "Word to the wise? Have an escape route and work on that accent. It's so obviously faked, it isn't even funny."  
  
Crystal left then and as she did, Kurt could have sworn she muttered something about being murdered by Kelly in her sleep. 


	7. You Always Hurt the Ones You Love

Hey, people reviewed!! My email didn't give them to me...grrr email...anyway, college is keeping me busy, but hopefully I can finish this. And I would take some of the "like"s out of Kitty's speech...but I just enjoy making fun of her too much. I'll write her as a decent character but she's got to say it every other word. ;)

So here's seven...if anyone's still paying attention, I'll put up eight soon.

Chapter Seven: You Always Hurt the Ones You Love...

"Katzchen, please!" Kurt silently cursed computers and their small keyboards. How was he supposed to do research like this anyway?

"Kurt, I'm just trying to help..."

"Does it look like I'm busy? Because I am," Kurt snapped. This had to be perfect, it just had to be, he'd only have a few...

Some furniture scraped along the floor and Kurt gritted his teeth. "Look, Kitty..." He trailed off. Kitty was gone, having probably melted through the floor without a sound. In her place was a very annoyed looking Professor.

Kurt gulped.

Professor Xavier arched his fingers. "I know you're doing something very important, Kurt. Important to you and, I believe it will be important to them. You're taking control of an inevitable situation, albeit in a very skewed way, and I applaud your efforts. But please do pay attention to what you sacrifice in the meantime."

Kurt's face fell as he realized how awful he'd been to Kitty over the last few hours. He would have to make it up to her. But the others..."I doubt it will be very hard to stay out of the way in the meantime," he said sadly. Since talking to Crystal, all his resentment was gone. He just wanted to do this right, to make it up to them. He wanted it so badly, he'd gone too far.

Xavier smiled slightly. "Miss Pryde was only the first, Kurt. And I'm sure she'll be back."

* * *

"'The runes led them in a gentle curve that kept taking them to their right. Jarre had no idea how far they traveled, for there was no feeling of time down here. The blue sigla...'"

Scott winced as the voice tripped over that last word and then crept further down the hall. It was late on a Saturday night; most of the mansion had gone to bed. Scott had gotten out of bed because a light was shining under his doorway and he had heard a voice reading out loud. But, oddly enough, he didn't recognize it.

"'Jarre became mesmerized by them; it seemed as if she walked in a dream and might have kept walking forever as long as the runes led the way. The man's voice added to this eerie impression, for—as she had asked—he talked the entire time.'"

Scott found the light and looked around confused. It was coming from Kurt's bedroom, his door slightly ajar. But Scott knew what Kurt's voice sounded like. Yawning silently, he closed his eyes and reached up to rub his face under his sunglasses. It wasn't likely that there was a problem, but he didn't recognize the voice. Making up his mind quickly—he hated being indecisive—Scott knocked slightly and then pushed the door open.

The reading halted, leaving a cavernous silence in its wake. Kurt was sitting on his bed, book in hand. Scott blinked and looked around the rest of the room, but no one else was there.

"Kurt?" He paused to yawn. "What're ya doin'?"

With an all too innocent expression, Kurt held up the book. "Reading. I'm sorry, Scott, did I wake you?"

Scott shifted his weight around and, nervously, adjusted his glasses, being sure that they didn't shift too far. He was still mad at Kurt, as far as that went, but he still didn't feel like accusing his teammate in the middle of the night...especially when all he had to go on what the fact that Kurt was reading out loud like he was practicing for a play or something.

The silence stretched awkwardly. "Umm...what're you reading?"

"Dragon Wing."

"Huh. Who's that by?"

"Weis and Hickman."

"Is it good?"

"Ja."

More awkward silence.

"Kurt—"

"Scott—"

They both broke off, embarrassed. Scott waved a hand and looked everywhere but at the fuzzy mutant. "Anyway, man, I'm going to close your door. The light's what woke me up."

"Es tut mir leid, Scott."

"Don't worry about it Kurt. And...don't stay up too late." The answer was just a beat too long in coming and finally Scott looked at his...friend. As always, Kurt looked a distinct shade of purple through his shades, but for once, Scott had no problem taking him seriously. "What're you up to?" he muttered, more to himself.

Kurt's eyes burned through him with something beyond their usual glow. "I really am sorry," he said quietly. "I can't see how this will end."

Scott, believing Kurt referred to the anger that pervaded the mansion, tried to look reassuring. Or at least less stern. "It will work out." Kurt nodded and returned his attention to his book and his doubts. Scott went back to bed, closing both doors as he went.

* * *

Monday morning brought a climax to the tension, though half the mansion would be damned if they knew why. Breakfast brought random glares for unknown reasons and the stealing of many a cereal box with a possessive snarl. Kitty was studiously ignoring Kurt while annoying the wits out of Evan who in turn was slurping his milk just loud enough to cause Logan to give intermittent growls. Rogue, having roomed with an irate Kitty the previous night, was making a show of staying as far away from her as possible and ignoring everyone else.

And the most palpable anger was, of course, aimed at Kurt. They seemed to have a rotating schedule, making sure he was dealt death glares at least once a minute. Only Scott was staring at Kurt with something approaching thoughtfulness and Jean, halfway through taking out her anger-by-proxy on Ms. Monroe and curfew rules, starting sending proud glances his way every now and then.

Kurt, for his part, just concentrated on eating. He didn't want to think about how he had hurt Kitty's feelings or how he had aroused Scott's suspicions. He didn't want to deal with how loud his nervous thoughts must have been broadcasting for Jean to pick them up or how Evan was on his eight glass of milk and about to become a Logan special shish-kabob. In short, food was good and it was pointless to worry about anything else because it would all be different by tonight anyway.

Going to school didn't help. Someone from the mansion was in all of his classes and the looks never ceased. The tension, strained to its limits, spread to others and soon everyone from the Brotherhood to freshman he had never spoken to were on his case. The only thing that made it bearable was that everyone was on everyone _else's_ case as well.

Rumor had it that Kelly had collapsed in the bathroom and been the victim of magic markers.

The auditorium found broken allegiances. Because his speech was over, Kurt was free to join the crowd but if he even looked at Kitty, she started complaining—loudly—about the imaginary fur she just _couldn't_ get off her clothes. So Kurt wandered backstage and Crystal, with an exasperated sigh, let him stay. And then it was time for the closing arguments. Duncan Matthews swaggered up onto the stage with a permanent sneer and a distinct lack of notes in his hands. His fan section went wild and only Kurt saw Crystal knock back a couple of aspirin and brace herself.

"'Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live'." Duncan Matthews smiled his smug smile. "Exodus 22:18. The writers of this great and historical line meant to leave us with a life-long legacy through the ages. Anyone or anything with unnatural powers is, by definition, a witch and cannot be tolerated by people...it is dangerous and unnatural and we cannot tolerate its existence! It is against our religion and against our lives!"

An unintelligible roar went up from the crowd; it was impossible to tell who was protesting, who was cheering Duncan on, and who just didn't know what the hell was he was talking about.

He continued, voice projecting: "Some people say that we are animals too and that all life is equal. I say that we are above! Our religion tells us that we are better; our lives tell us that we are better! These mutants are below animals! They are mistakes and dangerous ones and if we do not learn from this mistake and correct it, it will take over everything that we have made, everything we deserve! We must take back the world!"

The hooting from the crowd echoed above the outraged cries and were silenced only by a large _crack_ and raining debris. Crystal had hurled her clipboard into a nearby anchored speaker, where the cheap wood splintered, quieting its shocked victims who in turn quieted others in their scramble to get out of the way. The crowded auditorium was soon unsure of what exactly was happening and much less inclined to make noise for it.

Besides, the sight of a five-foot-nothing senior staring down the star quarterback was much more entertaining than random yelling.

"_Mister_ Matthews." Duncan visibly gulped. Someone in the crowd wolf-whistled, which was followed by scattered twitters. Crystal didn't blink. "_Remove_ yourself from my stage." Duncan opened his mouth to protest, but wisely refrained. Even Kelly looked scared. For her part, Crystal moved to the podium, looking unruffled, and glared at the audience.

"_That_," she announced, "was despicable. I am sorry to close the debates on that note and any of you who were impressed by that display should be ashamed." A couple of people in the crowd snickered.

On the sidelines, Kurt waited nervously. He was too nervous, in fact, to be as outraged as he should have been or to notice that the Institute kids were no longer glaring at him, having transferred their death wishes solely onto Duncan Matthews.

What was Crystal waiting for? Why was she talking about closing the debates? Perhaps she had only told him what he wanted to hear to get away. Maybe she was terrified and only felt safe here in the crowd. Maybe she had turned him in and cops were surrounding the building and maybe they were ready to...

"Hey, man, chill." Some random sophomore put a hand on Kurt's shoulder. "Damn, you're jittery. Pay attention; Crystal's got somethin' important to say."

"...closing remarks, we have a special guest." Taryn, who had been everything short of kidnapped to give the closing statement, looked relieved enough to kiss whoever was closest and did so with enthusiasm, much to Scott's dismay. "Contrary to popular belief, he does not attend this school and has come to correct some...misconceptions. I would ask that you all _not_ start a riot as I have been given the authority to hand out suspensions as I see fit." This was obvious news to Kelly, who, after a second's reflection, decided not to object. "Very well then," Crystal continued. "We'll have our closing statements now."

She stepped back from the podium.


	8. His Side of the Story

Author's Note: Wow, I am really sorry for letting this go so long. College has been absolutely nuts and then Christmas was crazy...well, anyway, thanks to everyone who reviewed and here it is, chapter eight! I do hope it doesn't disappoint. Unfortunately, I don't believe it will go any farther than chapter eight for at least a week until I go back to school because I am fairly sure I wrote a chapter nine, but it is on my computer at school, some four hours away. Then hopefully I can finish it completely before classes start to take up all my brainpower again. People, yell at me if I don't!

Chapter Eight: His Side of the Story

_bamf_

All the air seemed to rush from his lungs as he peered into the bright lights. His misshapen hands sought the podium's stability and his blue fur seemed to chafe on his wrist as he keenly felt the absence of his watch. His tail displayed his anxiety for all to see, continually carving out an arc in the deafening silence, spade tip swinging just above his head. It seemed to mesmerize the still crowd, their eyes following its path as if it were a hypnotist's watch. It was comical and Kurt gave a nervous laugh.

The audience took in a collective breath. Jean placed a hand on Scott's arm to still his jerky movements and relax his protective stance. Kitty's mouth hung open and Amanda's knuckles were turning white, fear warring excitement in her eyes.

"Um...hi?" The words came out perfectly unaccented, but refused to go any further. His thoughts were racing faster than he could handle and he caught only broken pieces of whole ideas before they flittered away. People were beginning to stand up from their seats. He grimaced, showing sharp incisors, and somewhere someone gave a terse scream.

Kurt closed his eyes. He'd heard so many screams. They rushed in on him now but rather than overwhelm him, they carried a sense of purpose. So many times he had hidden from the screams in fear, in sadness, but now...now he could do something.

He opened his eyes but didn't see the people.

"They call me the Bayville Demon, though that isn't my name. They fault me on circumstance though I am innocent. They say I am an animal though they have never met me. They fear me because they don't understand. They have never seen me laugh or cry; they will not pity me if I bleed.

"And I cannot blame them. There is so much to fear in this world, so many things not understood. I cannot blame them when they scream or when they run because I...in the greatest of ironies, I fear the things they do. The world is a scary place, my friends, but the scariest thought of all is if we would allow ourselves to be governed by fear.

"So I quell my fear, and I learn to see the world without it. It is always there, making me strive to understand...and I will not give in to my fear of those who would hate me because I see that they are just like me...they just want to live and not to be afraid."

"And I..." Something large jostled Kurt from behind and his attention snapped back to reality with frightening clarity. How long ago the riot had started was impossible for him to guess, but it was being reasonably contained by Duncan's cronies, leaving the path clear for the football player to once again steal the limelight. He was growling something unheard, a delightfully justified sneer on his face as he reached Kurt and grabbed his wrist in an iron grip.

The crowd surged like an undulating snake, hissing and spitting its anger in the truest of mob mentality. Scott's glasses were immediately stolen and Kitty was given a concussion by a random flying chair. Evan was swept underfoot and Rogue was forcing her way toward the door, the only direction the crowd seemed inclined to let her go and the way to the nearest payphone. Jean's head split with a million contradictions and unchecked thoughts.

Duncan's first blow caught him high in the cheek. Kurt was panicking, tugging ineffectually at his wrist, trying to free himself. His mind was screaming at him to flee, but the basic instinct left no room for creative interpretation. Somewhere, higher emotions that he could no longer understand caused tears to spill from his clenched eyes.

A second blow landed and then a third.

"Mutie _freak_." He could feel the hot, hateful whisper against his ear. He shoved back against it, to deny it, and felt the hate turn to surprise. There was a low moan, a change in pressure, and Kurt felt his head clear just enough to glimpse his salvation.

_bamf_

It was dark and cold. The faint smell of sulfur rose lazily to the ceiling. A hand hung on to his wrist for dear life, but, in a moment of clear absolution, Kurt couldn't bring himself to care. When he passed out, he felt no fear.


End file.
